


A Brief Stay

by KnightofIris



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Inn Keeper AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2421086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightofIris/pseuds/KnightofIris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Karkat Vantas and you own an inn near the capital city of Skaia. You've met many "colorful" characters in your life, but John seems to take the metaphorical cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Inept Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this story. This is my return to the fanfiction scene after about 5 years so please bare with me.
> 
> I have no idea how often I'll be updating this story, but I will do my best.

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are beyond bored right now. You sit behind the ‘welcome desk’ of your inn, reading one of the novels from your personal library.

You listen to the rain as it hits against the roof; its rhythm almost hypnotic along with the crackle of the nearby fireplace. It makes your eyelids droop as you read along the words of the book in front of you. 

This is the worst part about owning an inn, you think, the slow seasons. Sure, during the Great Harvest Celebration plenty of nobles and travelers came from all over and you were even able to get plenty of workers that were willing to help during that day. It was one of the best parts about being so close and yet far enough away from the capital city of Skaia. It’s at least a half day ride by carriage or another two day ride to the city of Prospit, so many are content to stay for the night here.

However, when the celebration is said and done everyone packs up their things and leaves before the winter times rears its ugly head. During the winter hardly anyone is here. Perhaps the odd traveler would stop by looking for some warm ale and a cot or the inebriated cook, Gamzee, whom you’ve become rather attached to, but other than that nothing.

You heave a deep sigh. You would never admit it in person, but being alone leaves you with a sense of dread. Having grown up in this place and inheriting it from its previous owner, Spades Slick, you grew used to people being around, even if they did drive you batshit insane most of the time.

Oh, how do the guests drive you insane. When you’re not dealing with spoiled noble children demanding sweets, you’re dealing with an idiotic grubfucker of a worker that wouldn’t know their nook from their own foot. However that usually only happens during the summer and fall season, not now. 

Now you are alone, waiting for a client whom will probably never show. You tell yourself that you’ll wait a few more minutes before you close up and call it a night. Gamzee has already gone to bed and you know very well you should as well. The troll reminds you time and time again that you should “let the z’s up and take you away.” You swear that guy is pulling some pale facilitation bullshit.

You didn’t realize how deep in thought you are until you hear wet thuds along the wood floor. You look up and see a young man dressed in a long, dark cloak, the rainwater running off and dripping _onto the mud he tracked on the fucking floor that shit eating son of a_ \--

“Hey, do you have any rooms available?”

You snarl at the man’s words. It’s like he was raised in a barn.

“I don’t think we have any room for inconsiderate pieces of hoof-beast shit that track mud onto perfectly clean floors.”

The man looks back for a moment and then to you. You expect he’s going to apologize like most would.

“Oh, sorry.”

He attempts to wipe the mud onto his cloak, but that only leaves more mud on the floor. This is pathetic, you think, down right pitiable. You pinch the bridge of your nose and heave a deep sigh.

“You know what? Nevermind. Let’s just get you your damn room before you end up hurting yourself.”

You close your novel and slip it behind the desk, then pull out the large guest book. The man pulls down his hood revealing unruly, short black hair and blue eyes so vibrant you could claw them out of his head and use them as a lantern. Under his eyes are dark bags, though they are not as vivid as your own. You take the nearby quill out of the inkwell on the desk and open the guest book to a blank page.

“How many nights are you going to be staying?”

The man blinks, then looks at the floor as if contemplating his answer.

“Um… A while?”

You eye the man with a questionable look upon your face.

“Sir, do you even know how inns _work_?”

The man gives a small laugh and smiles at you with his goofy looking, blunt teeth. Is this some kind of joke to him? If it is, you aren’t laughing.

“Listen here you little grub-fucking, pan-rotted shit stain. You can’t just waltz in here and say you want to stay here I need to know how long your filthy ass is going to be taking up space. Do you even have money?”

The man’s brows furrow in confusion

“Not really… I thought I could get a job here.”

You raise a brow at the man. Was this guy kicked by a horse as a child? Did he honestly think he could waltz in here, ask for a place to stay and get a job just like that? Then again, with winter around the corner it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra hands to chop wood for the fireplace.

“Do you have any experience?”

The man falters a bit and scratches at his neck in what you assume is nervousness.

“Not really? This is honestly my first one.”

Your jaw almost drops onto the desk. No job experience? Even the youngest of workers you’ve had here had at least some experience, either from small town shops or family businesses. How could this guy, who looked like he was pushing _twenty_ have no job experience?

“Can you lift heavy objects?”

“Um…”

“Can you manage finances?”

“No…”

“Do you even know how to _cook_?”

“I can boil water.”

You legitimately want to slam your face into the desk. This guy couldn’t do anything.

“Fine… What _are_ you good at?”

The man’s face breaks into a huge grin.

“I can perform magic tricks! I thought, perhaps, I could be a performer here.”

You gape at the man. Magic tricks? Those stupid sideshow tricks nobody liked? That is this shit stain’s only talent? This man can’t possibly be that inept.

“You can’t be serious…”

The man’s smile falters a bit.

“No, I am serious. I’ll even show you!”

The man throws his cloak onto a nearby stool and pulls up the sleeves of his undershirt. He takes hold of a nearby cup and shows it to you as if you’re some child. Then he takes his cloak and puts it over the cup, leaving behind its shape. The man waves his hands in some idiotic manner and then slams his hand down onto the cup shape, flattening it.

He pulls up the cloak to reveal the cup is no longer there then looks at you with gleaming eyes.

“Ta da!”

You look at him with an unamused glare. There is no way in hell you are going to make this guy a performer at your inn. You can barely take the bards that come during the fall.

“There is no way you are performing here. Nobody wants to see magic tricks.”

The man looks disheartened as he pulls out the cup from the inside of his cloak and sets it back on the desk. Ugh, you hate that look, it makes your stomach knot in guilt every fucking time. You look down at the desk and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Okay, can you at least lift an axe?”

The man thinks for a moment then nods.

“Alright, if you can lift an axe you can probably chop firewood. If you can do at least that, I’ll let you stay.”

The man’s eyes reignite, though they aren’t as powerful as before.

“Really?”

You nod.

“ _But_ , we have rules here and you need to follow them.”

“Okay… what are they?”

You hold up your hand and count along with the rules.

“Number one: I am your boss and you must do as I say, no questions. Number two: Thievery is forbidden here. If I catch you stealing, you’re gone. And number three: Do not ever go into my library without permission. Got that?”

The man gives a lopsided grin.

“Yes sir!”

“Alright, now what’s your name?”

The man freezes.

“My… Name…?”

You scowl.

“Yeah, the thing your guardians give you so you can be identified by other’s? Here, I’ll give you an example: Mine is _Karkat_.”

You emphasize your name simply to piss him off. It seems to work as the man frowns at you.

“I’m not stupid you know.”

You smirk.

“You could have fooled me.”

His frown turns into a scowl.

“John, my name is John.”

You raise a brow.

“John… what? John Dumbass the second?”

“John… McConaughey.”

You snort.

“Wow, no wonder you didn’t want to say it. That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard.”

The man looks at you, offended.

“Hey, I’ll have you know my name is awesome!”

You let out a laugh which he doesn’t seem to take too kindly to.

“Look, if you don’t want me here I can leave.”

You stop laughing and look at him, attempting to keep on a serious face.

“No, you can stay. You’ll start training tomorrow morning so don’t hurt yourself in your sleep.”

John scowls at you again and you can barely keep back a smirk. You stand up from your seat and walk over to one of the nearby hallways. John, however, stays stationary and looks at you with confusion. You click your tongue in mild annoyance.

“Don’t you want to, you know, go to your room? The thing you wanted to get a job for?”

That seems to click with John and he follows you down the hall to an empty room. You point to the closed door right across from it.

“That is Gamzee’s room, he’ll be your supervisor while you’re training. I’ll introduce you to him in the morning.”

You point to another closed door further down the hall.

“That is my room. Don’t come in without knocking, got it?”

John nods and walks into his newly designated room. You lean against the doorframe and cross your arms, watching as John sits down on his single sized bed.

“We start work early so you better get some rest. Breakfast is at sunrise, if you miss it you won’t get anything till noon. Got it?”

John looks over at you.

“Yeah, thanks… Karkat, right?”

You nod and make your way down the hall.

“I’m going to bed. ‘Night.”

You hear John’s voice echo down the hall.

“Good night!”

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you have no idea just what you’ve gotten yourself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful Zzzzzzzo.


	2. Worse than Intended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's been a while! I'm so glad I finally finished this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it!

You wake up a few hours later to the sound of Gamzee barging into your room.

“Up and at'em best friend. We got a miraculous day ahead of us.”

You groan into your pillow and attempt to bury yourself deeper into your bed. Fuck do you hate mornings, and Gamzee’s easygoing nature never seems to help you with that fact.

“Gamzee, you pig farting shit stick, what did I tell you about coming into my room without knocking?”

You hear Gamzee chuckle nonchalantly as he pulls the blanket off of you. You growl and curl into yourself before eventually giving in and getting out of bed. This is one of the many reasons you have those deep bags under your eyes; then again, it is primarily your own fault for staying up so late.

You head down the hall and notice one of the normally open doors closed. Oh yeah, the new guy from a few hours ago. What’s his name? Jim? Joan? John, that was it. Fuck you are so bad with names. You slam your fist against the door.

“Rise and shine asshat, we’ve got work to do!”

You hear something clamber onto the floor and inwardly cringe. You hope he’s okay, or at least still functional. You didn’t want the guy breaking his arm before he even got any work done.

Your thoughts are interrupted by an icy hand on your shoulder. It wakes you out of your daze and you turn to meet Gamzee’s lopsided grin. He looks up at the door then back down to you.

“We got a new patron, brother?”

You turn back to the door and grumble.

“Yeah, the guy came in last night and asked for a job.”

You feel Gamzee’s arms wrap around your waist as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“You’re such a kindhearted motherfucker, Karbro.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“It was raining outside, I couldn’t just turn him away.”

Gamzee smiles into your hair and slightly tightens his grip on your waist. God, this troll is going to be the death of you if he keeps this sugary pale bullshit up. You tug at his arms to let go and Gamzee does, gently pulling away from you.

The door opens and John walks out, fists rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he attempts to put together a coherent sentence.

“What time is it?”

“Work time.”

John gives you a sleepy glare and a sarcastic laugh. He spots Gamzee and eyes him cautiously. Gamzee, being a highblood, is usually a bit more intimidating to lower bloods and humans so this isn’t an uncommon occurrence. You point to the tall troll almost on impulse. 

“This is Gamzee, your supervisor remember?”

You point to John and turn your head to Gamzee.

“Gamzee, this is John. He’s going to be working with us for the winter.”

Gamzee smiles and waves to John.

“Sup, motherfucker. Nice to get some extra hands up in this place.”

John nods and gives a wary smile back.

“Alright now that pleasantries are out of the way, we’ve got a lot of work to do and not much time to do it. So lets get our petticoats unfurled and get started.”

You lead John and Gamzee through the kitchen and out into the back where the stables are kept. It’s pretty common for travelers, especially noblemen, to travel on horseback, so the stables have to be in the best condition even during the winter.

“John, I want you and Gamzee to clean the stables of any dirt and old hay. Lord knows how many horses have come and gone through this place during the Harvest.”

As you and the two numbskulls walk outside, you notice something unsettling. The entrance door to the stable is ajar. 

Shit. 

You turn back to Gamzee with a deep snarl etched onto your face.

“Gamzee, go get my sickle.”

Gamzee nods and runs back up front. John looks at you, concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

You keep your eyes glued to the stable entrance as you speak.

“Probably some drifter sleeping in the stables because they couldn’t afford a night.”

“Why is that so bad?”

“Drifters can be some crazy fuckers sometimes.”

“You don’t know that! You’re probably overreacting.”

You feel something inside you snap. You turn on your heels and pull up your undershirt, revealing a two inch scar running along the right of your abdomen.

“You see this?”

John stares at the scar and then back up at you, eyes filled with surprise and worry.

“I got this because I found a drifter in the stables and had the bright fucking idea to wake him up on my own. Turns out the guy was wrong in the head, thought I was one of his old war buddies come to take him to the other side. I was lucky I didn’t die from infection because of that fucker. So excuse me if I’m a bit on edge when it comes to drifters.”

You pull your shirt back down, but John continues to stare at where your scar lays. Gamzee comes running back and hands you your sickle. You take it without a word.

“John you stay in the middle. Gamzee stay behind John; I don’t need him getting hurt on his first day.”

John nods and steps in front of Gamzee.

The three of you carefully make your way towards and into the stable house. You dart your eyes back and forth to each stable, looking for a body curled up in old hay. Then you hear it, a bone chilling noise that nearly sends you through the roof. The snort of a horse. You jump back into John.

He holds back a bout of laughter which isn’t helping your predicament.

You all walk up to the stable with the noise and see a large, light brown clydesdale trotting back and forth in the once empty area.

“Aw Karbro look, little horse-buddy up and wanted to get out of the rain.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“How the fuck did it even get in here?”

“Maybe it let itself in,” John suggests.

The ‘suggestion’ makes you want slam your head right into the wall. You glare at him as hard as you physically can.

“That is the stupidest excuse I have ever heard. How the fuck would a horse, an animal that wouldn’t know it own ass from a plank of wood, know how to open a stall and get itself inside?”

You hear the horse whinny and jump back. You see John smirking in the corner of your eyes and feel a bubble of anger settle in your stomach.

“Karkat,” John chuckles, “are you scared of the horse?”

You ignore John’s idiotic accusation and sneer at him. This only makes John’s teasings worse.

“Oh my gods, you are.” You see John holding back laughter. “Is that why you wanted Gamzee and me to clean the stables?”

You grit your teeth. Fuck if you are going to inciminate yourself any further. You sheathe your sickle and run a hand through your hair. You have no idea where this horse came from, but it looks well taken care of. Clydesdales are usually seen with nobles who can afford to take care of them.

“What’re we gonna do with ‘em, Karbro?”

You click your tongue as you turn toward the two numbskulls, making sure to keep your distance from the giant beast.

“Gamzee, when is Tavros supposed to come with our supply of food for the next month?”

Gamzee thinks for a moment, pointer finger gently rested against his lips.

“Hmm… I think in two days. Why, best friend?”

“When he gets here, we’ll ask if he can take that,” you point back at the clydesdale, “ _thing_ with him.”

John looks at the horse with concern then back at you.

“Why can’t we keep them?”

You look at the dark haired boy like he’s grown a third eye.

“Do you really think I can afford to care for something like this? These things are monsters, even more so than most horses. No way; besides, Tavros owns a sanctuary where this thing will be more than happy.”

John furrows his brows.

“But what if they belong to someone? Won’t they be upset?”

“I could give two shits about the person this horse belongs to at this point. They were stupid enough to lose it, and now they have to face the consequences of their stupidity.” You turn and walk toward the entrance. “Now get to work! We’ve burned enough daylight dealing with this thing. Come in for breakfast when you’re all done.”

You can feel glaring eyes in the back of your skull, but ignore them. There was food to make and not enough time to make it.

 

The sun is up by the time the two idiots make their way inside. John looks near ready to collapse, while Gamzee retains his eerily calm gaze into nothingness. Luckily you’ve been able to finish a quick breakfast of oatmeal and small loaves of sweet bread left over from the Harvest. You pour them each a bowl of the goop and place the loaves in the middle of the table.

John scarfs the food down and nearly chokes on a loaf of sweet bread. You hand him a mug of water, commenting on how he needs to chew his damn food. John takes it and gulps it down with gusto.

“Sorry,” he replies, “It’s been a while since I’ve had a full meal.”

“This isn’t really a full meal,” you retort, “since the Harvest just ended we’re running a bit low on supplies. We have enough to last us and a few guests about a week, but it will by no means be a glamorous feast.”

“Aw, don’t say that Karbro.” Gamzee smiles with oatmeal dribbling down his chin. “Your food is bitchtits wicked.”

“Yeah Karkat, even if you are an asshole, your food is still pretty awesome.”

You snap your head up at John.

“Excuse me? Could you repeat yourself there, McConaughey?”

“I’m just saying, you really aren’t someone that I’d expect to have job that requires you be around people all the time. You always seem to be in a bad mood.”

You can feel the grip on your mug tightening. You cannot believe the words coming out of this nooklicker’s mouth.

“Do you really think you should be insulting your _boss_ , McConaughey?” you growl.

“No, but then again it’s not an insult.” John smiles. “Just an observation, really.”

You feel your blood begin to boil. Never have you been so blatantly insulted in your own inn. 

“An ‘observation’?” You raise an eyebrow. “That is possibly the dumbest way to mask an insult I have ever heard. You better watch yourself McConaughey, I’m not afraid of throwing assholes like yourself to the proverbial wolves.”

John attempts to retort, but Gamzee chimes in to stop him.

“Uh-uh, this ain’t up and the right place for you to be waxing black my brothers. All this hate will up and make us too tired to fulfill our miraculous duties.”

You feel your face heat up immediately. Was John really black flirting with you? You know humans didn’t really mesh well with troll quadrants, then again you also know there are desperate fuckers in this world willing to try anything.

John’s looks at you, just as stunned, his bright blue eyes locking with your own. You feel your stomach lurch in response.

You rise from your seat and make your way out of the eating area. You yell to the two to clean the dishes when they were done and then to organize the storage area before you slam the door and hurry off to complete your duties. All the while you try not to think about John’s conniving smirk.

You fail miserably.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful Zzzzzzzo.


End file.
